


An Post

by sceawere



Series: 'An Post' verse [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Female Friendship, Organized Crime, Orphans, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceawere/pseuds/sceawere
Summary: “You need a job, I have a job for you” she repeated.“As a gangster’s personal secretary, yeah it’s a dream career” you frowned.





	1. Opportunities

“It’s perfect for you, I promise” your friend insisted.

“I don’t know, Alice, I have the girls to think about” you shook your head.

“I know - but think about it. If you’re going to live in gang territory, you can pick a trench and have people to back you up or you can sit in no man’s land and hope the shit misses you on the way past” she swiped a hand in front of her face, and you quirked a brow.

“That’s very romantic, I’ll tell Ollie you said that” you joked.

“Oh piss off, I got with Ollie before I knew all his shit. You have that advantage – you’d know what you’re walking into”

“When I get with Ollie?” you teased back at her, trying to avoid the serious part of this conversation. You’d had enough of serious the last few weeks.

She lifted her eyebrow at you and tilted her head.

“You need a job, I have a job for you” she repeated.

“As a gangster’s personal secretary, yeah it’s a dream career” you frowned, throwing a pile of clothes onto a pile.

“I don’t know, there are benefits”

“Such as…?”

“He’s a dish, if I’m being honest”

“Alice!” you swung your head around.

“I’m just saying, if I’d seen him first, maybe…”

“I’m definitely telling Ollie you said you wanted to fuck his boss, you know that right? That poor puppy dog of a boy, you’re gonna tear him apart one day” you reached out and tore the shirt she’d been ‘folding’ for the last ten minutes away, adding it to the pile.

“You have no idea” she sighed.

“Oh, Jesus, Alice, stop there” you whipped her arm with another shirt, and slumped onto the edge of the couch.

“No, you wanna know”

“I don’t, I do not” you raised a hand to block her out of view.

“He does this thing…”

“Who does?” your sister asked, voice travelling in from the doorway.

“Sarah, out!” you shouted.

Alice broke down laughing, dropping the box she was ‘helping’ to unpack (you’d seen her open the lid and do little else besides palm that shirt) and walked over to grab your little sister into a big hug.

“Oh, little Star, how are you?” Alice gave her a smile back and played with her freshly curled hair.

“I’m good, your hair is nice” Sarah reached up a hand to doff a curl on your friends head.

“Oh, thank you! You look as scuffed as ever” She picked up your sisters hands, running the pads of her fingers over the bruised knuckles there.

“A girl at school is teaching me to fight”

“Good skill to have” Alice agreed.

“That’s what I said” you added.

Alice turned to you with a smile, pulling Sarah to her side.

“Star, tell your sister to trust me”

“What are you doing now?” your sister droned, and you smirked at the knowing tone.

“I am seeking her gainful employment” Alice defended.

“She’s lying to you, Star”

Ellie, the middle girl came in with the baby Martha on her hip, crying and passing her to you.

“Oh baby, come here, what happened?”

You shushed at her, rocking her little body against you in the small room.

“I think she wants to go home” Ellie said and you sighed.

“Well, this is home now, sweetheart”

Ellie gave you a look and went over to cuddle with Sarah and Alice.

Alice had been your friend since school and stood by you through the hell of the last few years. First your brother had died in the war, then your father passed a year ago. You’d managed off his war pension and their savings for that time but when you lost your job at the offices it all went to hell very quickly and you hadn’t been able to stay in the house you’d all grown up in. You were the oldest, now that your brother was gone, and more than double Sarah’s age. Everyone just assumed you were a poor widow with her children, rather than an orphan and her sisters.

You’d manage to scrape together enough for the first month’s rent on a flat big enough, just about, for the 4 of you, and enough money to keep you fed in that time too. But you needed to start working again. And Alice had come over with a promise to help you get situated and also of an exciting new opportunity her boyfriend had told her about.

“Think about it, please” she whispered to you as you hovered in the hallway outside the flat, and you’d hugged her and given her a promise to not discount it immediately.


	2. Interview

15 applications later and nearing closer to the end of the month with every day, you found yourself trying not to slip down stone steps into the basement of a…bakery. You’d known for years that your friend’s boyfriend wasn’t on the up and up but you’d never actually been this close to the reality of it. You’d always had plausible deniability, except that time early on when Alice had climbed up your front step with a bottle of rum under each arm screaming ‘delivery from the kind bakers at the Aerated Bread Company!’.

Men were rolling barrels around and giving you side glances as you tried your best to keep your head high and marched forward towards the office at the end of the way. Ollie spotted you and walked over, hugging your side and guiding you over.

“He’s a puppy underneath, I promise” he greeted you, and you sighed.

“Oh, well that bodes well”

“Just…be you” he said, causing a frown on your face.

“What in the good Lord’s name does that even mean, Ollie?”

He gave you a wink as he opened the door and showed you in.

“Right, another one?” the man groused, and you shuffled on the spot.

“Last one, boss, I promise” Ollie insisted.

“Last one. Name?”

You stuttered for a moment, having been looking around the room while the two men talked and having to quickly whip you head back around to reply.

“Why is he so sure you’re right for this?” the man pointed his pencil towards Ollie, head down on his papers still.

“I’m his girlfriend’s best friend, he knows me pretty well”

“You’re his-wait what?”

He looked up at you for the first time and scowled at you for a moment, then relaxed his face, then scowled again.

Fuck, Alice was right, he’s hot.

“Ollie, you bringing me girlfriend’s friends now?”

“She’s good, boss, she worked at that factory up town, the government one” Ollie nodded over his shoulder as though the building was in sight, rather than a dingy basement.

He hummed, turning back to you and staring you down. You assumed he was trying to intimidate you, and it was working a little but probably not as much as he wished.

“You got a piece of paper for me or something?” He lifted his hand to wave you over, holding it out for you to put your references in, and he looked you over again before he studied it.

“Why ain’t you working for the big government factory up town anymore?” he cleared his throat, and you took a quick breath.

“I punched my boss”

He left his glasses half perched on his nose to look up at you and you saw Ollie smile out the corner of your eye. You pulled the corners of your lips up – a ‘yeah, it happened’.

“You punched your boss?” he repeated.

“And…his boss as well actually. I think he was a minister for something?” you squinted.

He dropped the glasses and flopped back in the chair, smiling wide.

“Why the fuck did you do that, love?” he asked, suddenly excited.

“Cos I found out he was putting hands on the girls on the floor” you explained.

“What the minister?”

“No, my boss. He knew they couldn’t stand up to him without risking their job, the prick” you spat.

“What did the minister do then?”

“He didn’t stand up to him, either” you shrugged.

“So you did?”

You nodded to him, suddenly feeling very self-conscious under his gaze. He threw the paper back onto the desk and it floated over to you.

“Yeah, she’ll do”


	3. Day to Day

You settled in surprisingly quick to the job of personal secretary to a gangster boss. Most of the business he had you handle was the legitimate stuff, or at least stuff that appeared that way. As time went on, he trusted you more, and lowered you gently into the riskier stuff.

The pay was good, nearly double your last wage, and you guessed it was a form of combat pay. That and the boon of the private sector, you joked to Alice. She picked the girls up from school for you when you had to work late and you formed a steady rhythm to your life, despite the erratic environment.

And you were good at your job. Alfie had parked a desk outside his office for you, next to Ollie’s space, and you spent the days flitting in and out from the floor to the office. The men treated you with respect and brought you lunch when you couldn’t find time. Some of their kids went to school with your sisters and you ended up forming an odd little community here, in the shadows of the basement of the Aerated Bread Company.

“ABC? Honestly?” You’d quirked an eyebrow at Alfie when he leant out his office window and handed you your new business cards.

 “We came up with it when we young and drunk, din’t we? You try founding a bloody empire” he’d muttered as he backed his way through and slammed the glass shut again.

You smiled to yourself, staring at the card and biting your lip.

“Chief Secretary for the Aerated Bread Company”


	4. Safe Haven

The break came when you were trying to wrangle the girls into bed one night, your patience draining faster that was little energy was left over from work. You had a very giggly toddler strewn over one shoulder when there was an insistent knock on the front door. The sound made you start, and the girls laughter faded away as the rhythm beat more frantically only a moment later.

“Sarah, get everyone under the big bed, go on” you instructed, shuffling them into the safety of the shadows.

You helped the older girl round the smaller ones up and cast an eye back to check they were safely tucked under the frame before you checked the peep hole.

“Holy fucking shit” you whispered, throwing yourself back.

You sputtered with the locks, hands uncertain, and wrenched the door open.

“Ollie, what the fuck?” you spat through gritted teeth.

He didn’t speak, just charged into the close hallway, half dragging Alfie with him. He had his arm wrapped over his shoulder, Ollie supporting most of his weight, and there was a fall of blood sneaking down his shirt from the contact.

“Lock the door” Ollie insisted as he passed.

You didn’t even check the hallway, afraid someone might be right behind them, and secured the locks again. He was slowly dropping Alfie onto the sofa, groaning with the pain, flopping about like a rag doll.

“Ollie, what the fuck is happening?” your panic so clear in your voice it had bounced three levels.

“I need to patch him up, this was the closest place” he explained, frantic.

He was furiously working, pulling off Alfie’s jacket and waistcoat, bundling the latter up to use as a compress, already too soaked with blood to be worth trying to save.

“He needs a doctor – you need to call a proper doctor” you explained, stuttering around behind him.

“I can’t”

“Oh, like you don’t have a doctor on the payroll” you scoffed.

“We do but…they shot him too. Looks like we’re hiring” he looked over his shoulder at you, the two of you staring at each other in shock and panic.

“Oh for fuck’s sake” you finally settled on.

You dragged your hands up and over your face, blocking out your eyes for a second to think.

“Alright, move” you commanded, throwing yourself down in front of Alfie, barging Ollie out of the way and taking over the pressure on the wound.

“Go put some water on a boil, there’s a big pot under the sink, you need to fill it right up”

He nodded and jumped up, stuttering in mid-air.

“Uh, where-“

“That room there”, you nodded in the direction of the kitchen.

You lifted the makeshift compress slightly, rolling back the edge to see the damage and saw a slice across his abdomen through the tear in his shirt. The bullet had ripped across his front and side and that’s what was causing it to bleed so badly, rather than being a deep wound.

“Ollie, there’s clean cloths in the blue drawer – bring them all for me please” you called out, pressing back down with as much weight as you could muster.

He ran back in a moment later, cloth in hand, and dumped them on the sofa next to Alfie. He went back to check on the water and left you alone with Alfie again. You were suddenly aware of the fact that you were sat only in your vest and knickers and thanked your stars you’d worn your best pair to cheer yourself up.

“What d’ya think doc?”

Alfie’s voice was weaker than you’d ever heard it, tired and gruff as usual, but fainter. You jumped, not even realising he’d been awake the whole time, thinking he’d long since passed out. When his eyes set against yours they were bright as ever but there was pain behind them.

“It’s not as bad as the bleeding looks – it’s shallow so it’s bleeding more, like grazing your knee, you know? It takes ages to stop when you rip the surface”

“Well that’s good” he muttered.

“No, not really. There’s no bullet to dig out which is a saving grace but if I can’t get you clotting soon you’re fucked” you breathed.

“Oh, lovely, thanks darlin’”

You set about folding up a new cloth with one hand, the other keeping the pressure on, then performing a quick switch, rolling the new into the space of the old as quick as possible.

“Sorry, did you want me to lie? Thought you paid me to be honest” you flicked a look up to him, checking his palour.

“Your bedside manner is fucking atrocious, love”

“Yeah well it’s not my manners that are going to keep you alive so stuff it”

He groaned as you put another bout of pressure on the wound and you shushed quietly to him, doing your best to soothe him but not achieving much.

“I only have aspirin and I can’t give you that” you winced.

“The fuck not?”

“It thins your blood out, what you lose in pain you’ll also lose in blood, and you can’t risk that now” you shook your head.

“Fucking hell”

He dropped his head back against the headrest and took deep, ragged breaths.

“Tell me you have booze at least” he managed, wincing and gasping.

“I do actually but you can’t have any”

“Why not?”

“Because it thins you-“

“Thins my blood, yeah, lovely” he finished with a groan.

“Ollie! Whisky bottle, top shelf!”

He rolled his head back up to scowl at you and the pale tint to his skin sent a rush of worry through you.

“It’s for cleaning you up, nice and sterile” you explained.

You shrugged back at him, taking the bottle from Ollie, uncorking it with your teeth, and taking a deep swig.

“Uh- that’s-“

“Shut up, both of you, I needed that” you freed a finger from your grip to point up at them, letting the burn settle in your throat.

You dropped the bottle to the floor by your knee and pushed yourself up to hover over Alfie.

“Right, Ollie, I need his shirt off”

“Steady on darlin’, I’d love to but I’m not in the best of health and Ollie here, he’s only a boy ain’t he?”

You laughed despite yourself, breathy with a head shake, while Ollie set to work giving you better access. You placed a splayed hand against his chest to support him as he leaned forward and found yourself a little closer than comfortable. _He’s bleeding out in front of you, can you calm it down?_ When his head fell to your shoulder, nuzzling into the skin there with the pain, you shushed into his ear and nuzzled back, the only relief you could give to him.

“Lean back, let me get you fixed up” you whispered, guiding him gently.

Ollie retrieved the boiling pot and after a moment of stuttering about, kicked the rug over to protect the floor from the heat.

Rolling back the cloth slightly, you noticed the bleeding was a lot slower now, the pressure doing its work, his body responding. You dropped the sodden cloth to the floor next to the pot and collected a new one, draping it over the edge to soak, before splashing your hands with the whisky to clean them off. You set to wiping at the wound with the cloth, drawing away the blood to better assess the trouble.

“Oh, that’s even better than I thought, might not even scar”

You noticed a few little scars dotted around the plain of his chest, the inside of his arms. You wondered how many times he’d been dragged into the closest room and stuck back together.

“Here, take-over” you passed the cloth to Ollie.

“Where are you going?” his face fell into panic, and you stalled.

“I need to get some stuff to stitch him up with, just keep cleaning the blood off”

You moved out of the room and headed towards the bedroom, checking yourself for blood before entering. You dropped to the floor and reached for the girls.

“Come on, it’s ok”

They crawled out to you and you picked the little one up and held her close while the others sat on the bed.

“I heard you swear” Sarah whispered, grave, and you paused.

“Yeah, Sarah, I’m sorry, don’t you repeat that”

“Are they still here? Is it bad men?” she asked.

You stuttered over the answer in your head while you dug out your sewing kit. The obvious answer was yes.

“They’re not going to hurt us, sweetie. They’re…my friends. You remember Alice’s Ollie? They just need some help”

It wasn’t a lie and it avoided speaking to their morality. The perfect answer.

“Just stay in here with each other, alright? Try to get some sleep” you instructed.

You passed Martha over and made sure to shut the door tight behind you, not wanting your sisters to stumble out and see a bleeding gangster strewn about their living room.

“Who were you talking to?” Alfie looked on guard, trying to work out if there was someone else in the flat that could pose a threat.

“Just my sisters. They’re 10, 7, and 4, so maybe don’t shoot them”

He settled at your sarcastic tone and let out a gruff laugh, then winced. You set the box on the table and pulled out a smaller container from inside.

“I have some stuff left over from when my brother used to box, proper stuff, he won’t get an infection or nothing” you told Ollie.

“You have a brother?” Alfie asked.

“Had”

You concentrated on sterilising the needle and threading it up, avoiding the conversation entirely.

“You can have a tiny bit of whisky, now”

You passed him the bottle over, pulling it back from his grasp at the last second.

“Notice I said ‘a tiny bit’ and not ‘one drink’ so don’t go pulling any shit like downing it in one go and telling me it doesn’t break the rule, yeah?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, grabbing at the bottle again.

He was a good patient overall, barely wincing while you stitched him up. You dumped everything in the pot and told Ollie to dump it all in the kitchen, you’d sort it in the morning.

“You need to sleep here tonight. Can’t have you stumbling around half bled, ripping out your stitches” You braced yourself for an argument but Alfie just slumped down onto his good side, too out of it to bother. Ollie fell back into a chair next to him and nodded at you.

“Thanks”

“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll grab you some blankets and that”

When you got back into the bedroom the girls were huddled under the covers, whispering to each other and you quickly swapped out your clothes in the shadows so they wouldn’t see the flecks of blood that had ended up making their way to you. Crawling in, you made sure to lie between them and the door, between them and the wounded gangster sleeping on your couch. You sent a prayer up for nothing in particular, your brain so frazzled and fatigued. You just wanted peace for the night.


	5. Interim

“-and she did. So I said I might want to be a nurse someday, too”

“You’d be good at it” Ollie replied.

Alfie was in the strange space between sleep and consciousness and he swore the bullet had taken his sense because he heard Ollie chatting with a little girl. A cool cloth was draped across his head and someone was poking at his wrist.

“Fuck’s happening?” he muttered.

He tried to drag himself up on the sofa but a weight pushed him back down and when he opened his eyes they met with the wide ones of a small girl.

“Don’t let my sister hear you swear. And don’t get up, you’ll die” she instructed.

“He won’t die, Sarah” Ollie argued.

“He’ll die if I say he will, Ollie. I’m his nurse”

Alfie looked towards Ollie with an expression that repeated his question without the need for words.

“She had to run out for some supplies and stuff, this is her little sister” Ollie nodded towards the girl, and Alfie looked back.

“I’m Sarah. I’m your nurse”

Alfie pulled the cloth from his forehead and chucked it at Ollie with his good arm, turning to shake Sarah’s hand.

“Lovely to meet ya, darlin’”

Sarah preened a little at that and her eyes lit up.

“Oh, hello”

“Could you go get me some water please, sweet, only I feel like I’ve swallowed that cloth right there, the one I just threw at Ollie”

She giggled to herself and ran off out of his sight and he turned to Ollie with fire in his eyes.

“You let her go off alone?”

“I sent guys with her, I didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you here with nothing but children to watch out for you”

“You should have left the guys here and gone for her”

“She wouldn’t let me, I don’t think she trusted strangers around the girls” Ollie shrugged.

“But, she left the kids here with us?”

“Yeah, she struggled with that one. She looks after them by herself Alfie. Three of them. Alice does what she can but…”

Sarah was back with the water now, hovering in the doorway with a glass in hand.

“Are you done whispering or should I come back?” she asked. Smart girl.

Alfie waved a hand and lay back.

“Where’s the rest of ya?”

“Ellie has homework and Martha is napping”, she dropped the glass into his hand and set him with strong eyes, “which is what you need to do once you’ve drank that”

“Bloody hell, you my nurse or my jailor?”

“Oi!”

“Yeah, you’re sisters” he handed her the glass back and scowled at her sudden beaming smile, turning his back to stare at the couch and try to sleep once more.

His side ached and he felt weaker than he wanted to admit. He drifted back in and out, listening to them shuffling about the house, chattering away. He woke up at one point to Ollie explaining a sum to one of them and wondered how exactly he’d found himself here. He was a boss, he ran an empire. And here he was, camped out on a sofa, in his secretary’s flat, listening to his right hand man explain numbers to children.

-

They ended up sleeping on your sofa for a few more days, until Alfie was strong enough and calm enough that you trusted him not to do something stupid and end up needing serious care.

You fell into an odd rhythm together, though you had to set some rules after the first day when you’d woke up to an empty bed and found the girls stood around the sleeping men, daring each other to poke one of them awake.

Sarah had taken to acting as Alfie’s full time nurse, bringing him glasses of water and fresh bandages, watching intently as you swapped them out and taught her how to spot the signs of infection. He was doing well but the blood loss had taken its toll and he ended up sleeping a lot.

You got back from ferrying the girls to school one day to find the flat empty, nothing but the bleached cloths drying on the radiator to prove they were ever there.


	6. Back to Work

Alfie didn’t come back to the bakery for another week so you and Ollie ended up playing defence, trying to hold down the fort and bat away the rumours that Alfie was dead. People were nervous. As much chaos as Alfie caused, he kept everything running smoothly too, sometimes the only thing controlling very sensitive deals and keeping dangerous people in line. His absence was noted. By people who weren’t nervous too, by people who were excited. Some low level sleaze-ball had the gall to turn up at the bakery and practically start measuring for drapes. He’d leered at you and Ollie had gone for him before you could when he’d slapped your arse on the way out.

You spotted the headline the next day while you jogged past the newsagent’s in the rain. It made you turn back and stand in the open, staring, until you felt it start to soak through your coat.

“Gangster found on the steps of his home, throat slit, hand missing”

-

You threw your coat over some old barrels to dry, though down here in the damp of the basement you doubted much would shift. You were so busy wringing your hair out you didn’t notice Alfie was sat at his desk until you were already in the office.

“Mornin’”

You jumped and swung around.

“Mr Solomons! Christ alive, what are you doing here?”

“I’m back, aren’t I?”

“Should you be?”

“Yeah, yeah, had a proper doctor take my stitches out, he said you did a good job. Anyway I hired ‘em so I won’t be bothering you or the girls anymore” he cleared his throat, shuffling the papers in his hands.

“Oh…alright”

“Yeah”

You stood staring at each other, neither really knowing what to say.

“I have the Dickinson papers to sort out, so…” you tried to exfiltrate yourself from the awkwardness.

“I, uh, I moved your desk in here, I hope that’s alright”, he scratched at his beard, pointing to the desk at the back of the room, “well I had it moved because to be honest my fucking side still feels like someone tried to make mince out of it. Ollie moved it. But…saves me screaming for you half the time, don’t it?”

You nodded along, looking between him and the desk.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me”

“Right…papers” he pointed to the desk again.

“Yeah, yeah, papers”

You worked in silence together for a while, stealing glances. A question burned at the back of your mind but never quite made it to your lips, until he finished a phone call and you jumped on your chance.

“Did you kill that guy?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

“What, the one who shot me? Yeah he’s long gone, love” He waved off with his free hand, still concentrating on the numbers he was tallying.

“No, the creep who tried to stage the takeover?”

“Oh him…” he kept his head down.

“Yeah, only someone…there seemed to be a statement in there and I thought-“

“You don’t put your hands on ladies, do you? My mother made sure to teach me that bloody early, his should’ve too”

You swallowed, not sure what to reply to such a statement of fact.

“Oh…well”

“Anyway, can’t have men coming in here sniffing round my grave before I’m already in it, sends a bad message”

“Thank you”

He hummed in his throat.

“Ollie said you helped sort things out while I was down, I appreciate that” he said, and you smiled a little, only to yourself.

“Just doing my job, Mr Solomons”

-

He sent cars with you to pick the girls up from school that afternoon - ‘just in case anyone’s still sniffing around, yeah?’ – And half the street stared as you waited at the gates with two men in suits. The girls acted like princesses, waving to everyone as they passed, and you slapped their hands down with a giggle.

When you got home there was an envelope in your mail locker, blank except for a scrawl on the back flap.

“The doc said you did a good job”

Inside were a stacks of cash, crisp new notes, bundled together in tens.


	7. Situation

“I can’t take this”

You threw the envelope onto his desk the next morning, crumpled from where you’d been playing with it so long, trying to work out what to do with it.

“Why not?” he eyed the envelope but didn’t reach for it an inch.

“It’s…it’s nearly 6 months wages, Alfie, what the hell made you think I would?!”

“Well, it were either that, or I buy a new house for ya, so I thought…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” you blanched at his words.

You’d long since lost your reminder to be professional and started acting purely on impulse, the whole situation too messed up for you to pretend it was normal.

“You can’t stay in the flat, not after I was there” he insisted, and you frowned, shaking your head as you tried to understand.

“What-“

“There’s been people sniffing around. I put men on your street when I was there and they never left. People have been sniffing around, people they recognise. People who work for people I’m not friends with, and they think you’re mine now, don’t they? I was in there nearly a week, that’s suspicious. So you have to make yourself scarce with the girls”

You let the information stew in your for a few moments, dropping into the chair in front of his desk.

“They would have never got near the girls, I made sure of it” he insisted, catching your sudden panic.

“The new guy who lives under me, he’s…” your voice was empty when you spoke, a chill fixed in your spine.

“One of mine, yeah”

“Fucking hell”

You bent over, head to knees, hands in hair.

“They would have never got near the girls”

His tone was soft and you lifted yourself up to look at him, wiping tears away from the edge of your eyes.

“I made sure of it” he insisted.

He nodded at you and you nodded back. He pulled himself up from the chair and walked round to perch on the edge of the desk in front of you.

“Your dad’s gone, yeah?” he asked, scratching at his beard.

“Yeah, and my brother”

“What about your mum?”

“She…” you shook your head, “I don’t know where the hell she is. Haven’t in years”

“Right, just you and the girls then”

You held back a whimper as possibilities washed over you. You looked up at him, holding back tears.

“Are we going to have to leave? London?”

“No, I don’t want you too far just in case, we’ll find you somewhere in my territory”

You looked up at him, looking down at you, and pleaded to him with your eyes.

“It’s just been me and them for a while and I…”

“I’ll keep you safe”

Neither of you said the next part out loud but you could tell by each other’s expressions what you were thinking.

_It was me who put you in danger._


	8. Ours

The girls felt like all their numbers had come at once as they shuffled into the new house. A whole house, to themselves. Not a room on a floor. No more of the long, dark corridors, and paper thin walls. They ran about, from room to room, Ellie screaming her way up the steps and off out of site.

Martha was perched on Alfie’s hip as he gave you both a personal tour of the place and at some point you broke down crying in the kitchen.

“No…no sweetheart, that’s. Right, that’s not productive, though is it so…” he huffed about as you sobbed into your hand, not sure what the hell to do with himself.

Sarah ran in holding hands with Ellie, smiling wildly until she saw you crying, moving over to you and throwing her arms around you.

“She’s just happy, Mr Solomons. This is big for us” she explained.

“Right, well. That’s lovely”

“Thank you, Alfie” It was the first time you’d used only his first name and he shuffled Martha on his hip.

“Well, thanks for saving my life as well, I never said that” he pointed at Sarah “and you as well for what you did”

“You’re welcome, Mr Solomons”

“Well, you can call me Alfie too, while we’re here. It’s well into my territory so I can pop in and out, no bother” he flicked his finger about the floor before him, and you lifted your brows.

“Oh, you can, can you?”

“Oh fine, I’ll piss off then, you buy a lady a house and-“

“Don’t swear in front of the kids!”

Martha laughed and he turned to scowl at her.

“Are you laughing at the swearing or me getting told off? Hmm?” he asked.

“Both”

“Both, right, getting it from all sides, fuc-“

“Oi!”

It was Ellie’s turn to scold him and everyone’s turn to laugh at his expression afterwards as he scratch his forehead and looked off through the window to the courtyard, muttering to himself.

“Why do I bother? House full of bloody women, you’re an idiot Alfie”

-

He stayed for tea that night, and came again the next, and eventually you ended up seeing more of him at home than you did at work. He was softer here, he wasn’t the boss – the girls were. It was his sanctuary and as the days passed and the seasons turned you felt the space around you change too. Smiles over dinner tables, fingers flitting together over paperwork, silences that stretched a little too long.

One night he’d had enough of playing coy teenagers and picked you up onto the desk, pouring out 6 months’ worth of swallowed kisses. You had his shirt halfway over his head when Ollie threw open the door and it was all broken.

There was a knock at the door that night and you wondered who it could be. Ollie and Alfie both had keys, Alice would just borrow yours or Ollie’s, and no-one else was supposed to know you lived here. You’d pulled out the gun Alfie had left in the drawer by the door and kept it to your side while you checked out the peep hole. Alfie was there, shuffling in the stoop, and you pulled the door open.

“What the fuck are you knocking for, you never knock?” you frowned.

“I thought I-bloody hell, love, you gonna shoot me? If the kiss were that bad you could have just told me” he nodded towards your hand.

“What are you-“You put the gun back in the drawer and moved to let him inside “get in the house, Alfie”

“Do you want me in though?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because today changed things a bit, didn’t it, and if I come in now, it’s not as your boss”

You messed with your hair a little, nervous hands, and leaned against the doorframe, keeping your eyes on the street, rather than on him.

“What would it be as?”

“Well…”He had his own nervous hands, scratching at his nose, at his beard, pushing his hat brim up and down “I was hoping we were gonna fuck, to be honest love, and I can say that because I’m not in the house see, and so I can swear how I like”

You broke down laughing, him smiling along with you.

“Never mind it’s my bloody house in the first place” he mumbled.

“Uh…our house”

“Oh, right, she’s moving me in already, bloody hell, we’re doing happy families now”

“I meant me and the girls, you twit” you smiled.

“Yeah, you and the girls, right”

“Alfie…get in the house”

“In the house?”

You leaned forward, grabbing at the front of his shirt, and joining your lips, stepping back and pulling him with you in one motion.

“Our house” you mumbled against his lips as he kicked the door shut behind you.


End file.
